NOTES.

Note 1 (p. 49).

I have been careful to speak of the "appearance" of cyclical evolution

presented by living things; for, on critical examination, it will be

found that the course of vegetable and of animal life is not exactly

represented by, the figure of a cycle which returns into itself. What

actually happens, in all but the lowest organisms, is that one part of

the growing germ (A) gives rise to tissues and organs; while another

part (B) remains in its primitive condition, or is but slightly

modified. The moiety A becomes the body of the adult and, sooner or

later, perishes, while portions of the moiety B are detached and, as

offspring, continue the life of the species. Thus, if we trace back

an organism along the direct line of descent from its remotest

ancestor, B, as a whole, has never suffered death; portions of it,

only, have been cast off and died in each individual offspring.

Everybody is familiar with the way in which the "suckers" of a

strawberry plant behave. A thin cylinder of living tissue keeps on

growing at its free end, until it attains a considerable length. At

[88] successive intervals, it develops buds which grow into strawberry

plants; and these become independent by the death of the parts of the

sucker which connect them. The rest of the sucker, however, may go on

living and growing indefinitely, and, circumstances remaining

favourable, there is no obvious reason why it should ever die. The

living substance B, in a manner, answers to the sucker. If we could

restore the continuity which was once possessed by the portions of B,

contained in all the individuals of a direct line of descent, they

would form a sucker, or stolon, on which these individuals would be

strung, and which would never have wholly died.

A species remains unchanged so long as the potentiality of development

resident in B remains unaltered; so long, e.g., as the buds of the

strawberry sucker tend to become typical strawberry plants. In the case

of the progressive evolution of a species, the developmental

potentiality of B becomes of a higher and higher order. In

retrogressive evolution, the contrary would be the case. The phenomena

of atavism seem to show that retrogressive evolution that is, the

return of a species to one or other of its earlier forms, is a

possibility to be reckoned with. The simplification of structure,

which is so common in the parasitic members of a group, however, does

not properly come under this head. The worm-like, limbless Lernoea has

no resemblance to any of the stages of development of the many-limbed

active animals of the group to which it belongs. [89] Note 2 (p. 49).

Heracleitus says,[Greek phrase Potamo gar ouk esti dis embenai to suto]

but, to be strictly accurate, the river remains, though the water of

which it is composed changes--just as a man retains his identity

though the whole substance of his body is constantly shifting.

This is put very well by Seneca (Ep. lvii. i. 20, Ed. Ruhkopf):

"Corpora nostra rapiuntur fluminum more, quidquid vides currit cum

tempore; nihil ex his quae videmus manet. Ego ipse dum loquor mutari

ista, mutatus sum. Hoc est quod ait Heraclitus 'In idem flumen bis non

descendimus.' Manet idem fluminis nomen, aqua transmissa est. Hoc in

amne manifestius est quam in homine, sed nos quoque non minus velox

cursus praetervehit."

Note 3 (p. 55).

"Multa bona nostra nobis nocent, timoris enim tormentum memorin

reducit, providentia anticipat. Nemo tantum praesentibus miser est."

(Seneca, Ed. v. 7.)

Among the many wise and weighty aphorisms of the Roman Bacon, few sound

the realities of life more deeply than "Multa bona nostra nobis

nocent." If there is a soul of good in things evil, it is at least

equally true that there is a soul of evil in things good: for things,

like men, have "les defauts de leurs qualites." It is one of the last

lessons one learns from experience, but not the least important, that

a [90] heavy tax is levied upon all forms of success, and that failure

is one of the commonest disguises assumed by blessings.

Note 4 (p. 60).

"There is within the body of every man a soul which, at the death of

the body, flies away from it like a bird out of a cage, and enters

upon a new life ... either in one of the heavens or one of the hells

or on this earth. The only exception is the rare case of a man having

in this life acquired a true knowledge of God. According to the

pre-Buddhistic theory, the soul of such a man goes along the path of

the Gods to God, and, being united with Him, enters upon an immortal

life in which his individuality is not extinguished. In the latter

theory his soul is directly absorbed into the Great Soul, is lost in

it, and has no longer any independent existence. The souls of all

other men enter, after the death of the body, upon a new existence in

one or other of the many different modes of being. If in heaven or

hell, the soul itself becomes a god or demon without entering a body;

all superhuman beings, save the great gods, being looked upon as not

eternal, but merely temporary creatures. If the soul returns to earth

it may or may not enter a new body; and this either of a human being,

an animal, a plant, or even a material object. For all these are

possessed of souls, and there is no essential difference between these

souls and the souls of men--all being alike mere sparks of the Great

Spirit, who is [91] the only real existence." (Rhys Davids, Hibbert

Lectures, 1881, p. 83.)

For what I have said about Indian Philosophy, I am particularly

indebted to the luminous exposition of primitive Buddhism and its

relations to earlier Hindu thought, which is given by Prof. Rhys

Davids in his remarkable Hibbert Lectures for 1881, and Buddhism

(1890). The only apology I can offer for the freedom with which I have

borrowed from him in these notes, is my desire to leave no doubt as to

my indebtedness. I have also found Dr. Oldenberg's Buddha (Ed. 2,

1890) very helpful. The origin of the theory of transmigration stated

in the above extract is an unsolved problem. That it differs widely

from the Egyptian metempsychosis is clear. In fact, since men usually

people the other world with phantoms of this, the Egyptian doctrine

would seem to presuppose the Indian as a more archaic belief.

Prof. Rhys Davids has fully insisted upon the ethical importance of

the transmigration theory. "One of the latest speculations now being

put forward among ourselves would seek to explain each man's

character, and even his outward condition in life, by the character he

inherited from his ancestors, a character gradually formed during a

practically endless series of past existences, modified only by the

conditions into which he was born, those very conditions being also,

in like manner, the last result of a practically endless series of

past causes. Gotama's; speculation might be stated in the same words.

But it attempted also to explain, in a way different from [92] that

which would be adopted by the exponents of the modern theory, that

strange problem which it is also the motive of the wonderful drama of

the book of Job to explain--the fact that the actual distribution here

of good fortune, or misery, is entirely independent of the moral

qualities which men call good or bad. We cannot wonder that a teacher,

whose whole system was so essentially an ethical reformation, should

have felt it incumbent upon him to seek an explanation of this

apparent injustice. And all the more so, since the belief he had

inherited, the theory of the transmigration of souls, had provided a

solution perfectly sufficient to any one who could accept that

belief." (Hibbert Lectures, p. 93.) I should venture to suggest the

substitution of "largely" for "entirely" in the foregoing passage.

Whether a ship makes a good or a bad voyage is largely independent of

the conduct of the captain, but it is largely affected by that

conduct. Though powerless before a hurricane he may weather a bad

gale.

Note 5 (P. 61).

The outward condition of the soul is, in each new birth, determined by

its actions in a previous birth; but by each action in succession, and

not by the balance struck after the evil has been reckoned off against

the good. A good man who has once uttered a slander may spend a

hundred thousand years as a god, in consequence of his goodness, and

when the power of his good actions is exhausted, may be born [93] as a

dumb man on account of his transgression; and a robber who has once

done an act of mercy, may come to life in a king's body as the result

of his virtue, and then suffer torments for ages in hell or as a ghost

without a body, or be re-born many times as a slave or an outcast, in

consequence of his evil life.

"There is no escape, according to this theory, from the result of any

act; though it is only the consequences of its own acts that each soul

has to endure. The force has been set in motion by itself and can

never stop; and its effect can never be foretold. If evil, it can

never be modified or prevented, for it depends on a cause already

completed, that is now for ever beyond the soul's control. There is

even no continuing consciousness, no memory of the past that could

guide the soul to any knowledge of its fate. The only advantage open

to it is to add in this life to the sum of its good actions, that it

may bear fruit with the rest. And even this can only happen in some

future life under essentially them same conditions as the present one:

subject, like the present one, to old age, decay, and death; and

affording opportunity, like the present one, for the commission of

errors, ignorances, or sins, which in their turn must inevitably

produce their due effect of sickness, disability, or woe. Thus is the

soul tossed about from life to life, from billow to billow in the

great ocean of transmigration. And there is no escape save for the

very few, who, during their birth as men, attain to a right knowledge

of the Great Spirit: and thus enter into immortality, or, as the later

[94] philosophers taught, are absorbed into the Divine Essence." (Rhys

Davids, Hibbert Lectures, pp. 85, 86.)

The state after death thus imagined by the Hindu philosophers has a

certain analogy to the purgatory of the Roman Church; except that

escape from it is dependent, not on a divine decree modified, it may

be, by sacerdotal or saintly intercession, but by the acts of the

individual himself; and that while ultimate emergence into heavenly

bliss of the good, or well-prayed for, Catholic is professedly

assured, the chances in favour of the attainment of absorption, or of

Nirvana, by any individual Hindu are extremely small.

Note 6 (P. 62).

"That part of the then prevalent transmigration theory which could not

be proved false seemed to meet a deeply felt necessity, seemed to

supply a moral cause which would explain the unequal distribution here

of happiness or woe, so utterly inconsistent with the present

characters of men." Gautama "still therefore talked of men's previous

existence, but by no means in the way that he is generally represented

to have done." What he taught was "the transmigration of character."

He held that after the death of any being, whether human or not, there

survived nothing at all but that being's "Karma," the result, that is,

of its mental and bodily actions. Every individual, whether human or

divine, was the last inheritor and the last result of the Karma of a

long series of past individuals--"a series [95] so long that its

beginning is beyond the reach of calculation, and its end will be

coincident with the destruction of the world." (Rhys Davids, Hibbert

Lectures, p. 92.)

In the theory of evolution, the tendency of a germ to develop according

to a certain specific type, e.g. of the kidney bean seed to grow into

a plant having all the characters of Phaseolus vulgaris, is its

"Karma." It is the "last inheritor and the last result" of all the

conditions that have affected a line of ancestry which goes back for

many millions of years to the time when life first appeared on the

earth. The moiety B of the substance of the bean plant (see Note 1) is

the last link in a once continuous chain extending from the primitive

living substance: and the characters of the successive species to

which it has given rise are the manifestations of its gradually

modified Karma. As Prof. Rhys Davids aptly says, the snowdrop "is a

snowdrop and not an oak, and just that kind of snowdrop, because it is

the outcome of the Karma of an endless series of past existences."

(Hibbert Lectures, p. 114.)

Note 7 (p. 64).

"It is interesting to notice that the very point which is the weakness

of the theory--the supposed concentration of the effect of the Karma

in one new being--presented itself to the early Buddhists themselves

as a difficulty. They avoided it, partly by explaining that it was a

particular thirst in the creature dying (a craving, Tanha, which plays

other [96] wise a great part in the Buddhist theory) which actually

caused the birth of the new individual who was to inherit the Karma of

the former one. But, how this too place, how the craving desire

produced this effect, was acknowledged to be a mystery patent only to

a Buddha." (Rhys Davids, Hibbert Lectures, P. 95.)

Among the many parallelisms of Stoicism and Buddhism, it is curious to

find one for this Tanha, "thirst," or "craving desire" for life.

Seneca writes (Epist. lxxvi. 18): "Si enim ullum aliud est bonum quam

honestum, sequetur nos aviditas vitae aviditas rerum vitam

instruentium: quod est intolerabile infinitum, vagum."

Note 8 (P. 66).

"The distinguishing characteristic of Buddhism was that it started a

new line, that it looked upon the deepest questions men have to solve

from an entirely different standpoint. It swept away from the field of

its vision the whole of the great soul theory which had hitherto so

completely filled and dominated the minds of the superstitious and the

thoughtful alike. For the first time in the history of the world, it

proclaimed a salvation which each man could gain for himself and by

himself, in this world, during this life, without any the least

reference to God, or to Gods, either great or small. Like the

Upanishads, it placed the first importance on knowledge; but it was no

longer a knowledge of God, it was a clear perception of the real

nature, as [97] they supposed it to be, of men and things. And it added

to the necessity of knowledge, the necessity of purity, of courtesy,

of uprightness, of peace and of a universal love far reaching, grown

great and beyond measure." (Rhys Davids, Hibbert Lectures, p. 29.)

The contemporary Greek philosophy takes an analogous direction.

According to Heracleitus, the universe was made neither by Gods nor

men; but, from all eternity, has been, and to all eternity, will be,

immortal fire, glowing and fading in due measure. (Mullach, Heracliti

Fragmenta, 27.) And the part assigned by his successors, the Stoics,

to the knowledge and the volition of the "wise man" made their

Divinity (for logical thinkers) a subject for compliments, rather than

a power to be reckoned with. In Hindu speculation the "Arahat," still

more the "Buddha," becomes the superior of Brahma; the stoical "wise

man" is, at least, the equal of Zeus.

Berkeley affirms over and over again that no idea can be formed of a

soul or spirit--"If any man shall doubt of the truth of what is here

delivered, let him but reflect and try if he can form any idea of

power or active being; and whether he hath ideas of two principal

powers marked by the names of will and understanding distinct from

each other, as well as from a third idea of substance or being in

general, with a relative notion of its supporting or being the subject

of the aforesaid power, which is signified by the name soul or spirit.

This is what some hold but, so far as I can see, the words will, soul,

spirit, do not stand for different ideas or, in truth, for any idea at

all, but for something which is very different from ideas, and which,

being an agent, cannot be like unto or represented by Any idea

whatever [though it must be owned at the same time, that we have some

notion of soul, spirit, and the operations of the mind, such as

willing, loving, hating, inasmuch as we know or understand the meaning

of these words". (The Principles of Human Knowledge, lxxvi. See also

sections lxxxix., cxxxv., cxlv.)

It is open to discussion, I think, whether it is possible to have

"some notion" of that of which we can form no "idea."

Berkeley attaches several predicates to the "perceiving active being

mind, spirit, soul or myself" (Parts I. II.) It is said, for example,

to be "indivisible, incorporeal, unextended, and incorruptible." The

predicate indivisible, though negative in form, has highly positive

consequences. For, if "perceiving active being" is strictly

indivisible, man's soul must be one with the Divine spirit: which is

good Hindu or Stoical doctrine, but hardly orthodox Christian

philosophy. If, on the other hand, the "substance" of active

perceiving "being" is actually divided into the one Divine and

innumerable human entities, how can the predicate "indivisible" be

rigorously applicable to it?

Taking the words cited, as they stand, the amount to the denial of the

possibility of any knowledge of substance. "Matter" having been

resolved into mere affections of "spirit", "spirit" melts away into an

admittedly inconceivable and unknowable [99] hypostasis of thought and

power--consequently the existence of anything in the universe beyond a

flow of phenomena is a purely hypothetical assumption. Indeed a

pyrrhonist might raise the objection that if "esse" is "percipi"

spirit itself can have no existence except as a perception,

hypostatized into a "self," or as a perception of some other spirit.

In the former case, objective reality vanishes; in the latter, there

would seem to be the need of an infinite series of spirits each

perceiving the others.

It is curious to observe how very closely the phraseology of Berkeley

sometimes approaches that of the Stoics: thus (cxlviii.) "It seems to

be a general pretence of the unthinking herd that they cannot see God.

. . But, alas, we need only open our eyes to see the Sovereign Lord of

all things with a more full and clear view, than we do any of our

fellow-creatures . . . we do at all times and in all places perceive

manifest tokens of the Divinity: everything we see, hear, feel, or any

wise perceive by sense, being a sign or effect of the power of God" .

. . cxlix. "It is therefore plain, that nothing can be more evident to

any one that is capable of the least reflection, than the existence of

God, or a spirit who is intimately present to our minds, producing in

them all that variety of ideas or sensations which continually affect

us, on whom we have an absolute and entire dependence, in short, in

whom we live and move and have our being." cl. "[But you will say hath

Nature no share in the production of natural things, and must they all

be ascribed to the immediate and sole operation of God? ... if by

Nature is [100] meant some being distinct from God, as well as from

the laws of nature and things perceived by sense, I must confess that

word is to me an empty sound, without any intelligible meaning annexed

to it.] Nature in this acceptation is a vain Chimaera introduced by

those heathens, who had not just notions of the omnipresence and

infinite perfection of God."

Compare Seneca (De Beneficiis, iv. 7):

"Natura, inquit, haec mihi praestat. Non intelligis te, quum hoc

dicis, mutare Nomen Deo? Quid enim est aliud Natura quam Deus, et

divina ratio, toti mundo et partibus ejus inserta? Quoties voles tibi

licet aliter hunc auctorem rerum nostrarum compellare, et Jovem illum

optimum et maximum rite dices, et tonantem, et statorem: qui non, ut

historici tradiderunt, ex eo quod post votum susceptum acies Romanorum

fugientum stetit, sed quod stant beneficio ejus omnina, stator,

stabilitorque est: hunc eundem et fatum si dixeris, non mentieris, nam

quum fatum nihil aliud est, quam series implexa causarum, ille est

prima omnium causa, ea qua caeterae pendent." It would appear,

therefore, that the good Bishop is somewhat hard upon the "heathen,"

of whose words his own might be a paraphrase.

There is yet another direction in which Berkeley's philosophy, I will

not say agrees with Gautama's, but at any rate helps to make a

fundamental dogma of Buddhism intelligible.

"I find I can excite ideas in my mind at pleasure, and vary and shift

the scene as often as I think fit. It is no more than willing, and

straightway this or that idea arises in my fancy: and by the same

power [101] it is obliterated, and makes way for another. This making

and unmaking of ideas doth very properly denominate the mind active.

This much is certain and grounded on experience. . ." (Principles,

xxviii.)

A good many of us, I fancy, have reason to think that experience tells

them very much the contrary; and are painfully familiar with the

obsession of the mind by ideas which cannot be obliterated by any

effort of the will and steadily refuse to make way for others. But

what I desire to point out is that if Gautama was equally confident

that he could "make and unmake" ideas--then, since he had resolved

self into a group of ideal phantoms--the possibility of abolishing

self by volition naturally followed.

Note 9 (P. 68).

According to Buddhism, the relation of one life to the next is merely

that borne by the flame of one lamp to the flame of another lamp which

is set alight by it. To the "Arahat" or adept "no outward form, no

compound thing, no creature, no creator, no existence of any kind,

must appear to be other than a temporary collocation of its component

parts, fated inevitably to be dissolved."--(Rhys Davids, Hibbert

Lectures, p. 211.)

The self is nothing but a group of phenomena held together by the

desire of life; when that desire shall have ceased, "the Karma of that

particular chain of lives will cease to influence any longer any

distinct individual, and there will be no more birth; [102] for birth,

decay, and death, grief, lamentation, and despair will have come, so

far as regards that chain of lives, for ever to an end."

The state of mind of the Arahat in which the desire of life has ceased

is Nirvana. Dr. Oldenberg has very acutely and patiently considered

the various interpretations which have been attached to "Nirvana" in

the work to which I have referred (pp. 285 et seq.). The result of his

and other discussions of the question may I think be briefly stated

thus:

1. Logical deduction from the predicates attached to the term

"Nirvana" strips it of all reality, conceivability, or perceivability,

whether by Gods or men. For all practical purposes, therefore, it

comes to exactly the same thing as annihilation.

2. But it is not annihilation in the ordinary sense, inasmuch as it

could take place in the living Arahat or Buddha.

3. And, since, for the faithful Buddhist, that which was abolished in

the Arahat was the possibility of further pain, sorrow, or sin; and

that which was attained was perfect peace; his mind directed itself

exclusively to this joyful consummation, and personified the negation

of all conceivable existence and of all pain into a positive bliss.

This was all the more easy, as Gautama refused to give any dogmatic

definition of Nirvana. There is something analogous in the way in

which people commonly talk of the "happy release" of a man who has

been long suffering from mortal disease. According to their own views,

it must always be extremely doubtful whether the man will be any

happier after the "release" [103] than before. But they do not choose

to look at the matter in this light.

The popular notion that, with practical, if not metaphysical,

annihilation in view, Buddhism must needs be a sad and gloomy faith

seems to be inconsistent with fact; on the contrary, the prospect of

Nirvana fills the true believer, not merely with cheerfulness, but

with an ecstatic desire to reach it.

Evolution and Ethics, and Other Essays · 第 30 / 115 题